[center][h3]CMDR SAGAN "VULTURE" KODOS[/h3][/center]

Sagan sighed, eventually giving the session up as a bad job and joining Sabine on the other end of the barracks tent as Johann sat as well. The offer of fresh coffee was gratefully taken, the commander eagerly pouring himself a mug before sighing at Sabine. 

[b]"Alright, no fucking with the support staff. First I know damn well we've all got a stash in our mechs. Hell, I'm pretty sure Commie's cockpit might as well be using the stuff as crash gel. And second,"[/b] He let a mercenary gleam shine in his gaze, somehow visible through the aviators he wore while off-duty. 

[b]"Already reserved us a whole pallet. It's being stashed in the back of the mess tent."[/b] Entirely true. [b]"Course, that was bought with the promise that you don't fuck with the guys in Procurement for a whole month. So don't make me a liar or you're getting triple the PT and sim drills."[/b] A complete fabrication. But if it got Sabine to fucking behave like a human being for a month, he'd take it. 

A swig of coffee. Overly roasted char-blasted industrial crap that it was, it was still probably healthier than the Rip-Gels that every but Johann, Sagan included, were practically addicted to. 

[b]"Anyways, let's hope the Blackout gets repairs in time. After the last poor bastard to pilot it, god rest his soul, the techs must be in goddamn conniptions about it getting beat up so much more often. They get back to you on the Sparrowhawk yet, Rabbit? Been too busy setting everything up here to check."[/b]